Power Play
by Helene Fyne
Summary: Claire never thought she'd see him again, especially not partially nude in a locker-room.


**_Power Play_**

Claire rolled her head, cracking her neck, and sighed. She still wasn't sure that joining the university cheer squad had been a good idea, but with Gretchen getting ever clingier, Claire had needed a way to get some time to herself. Her new roommate was almost jealous when it came to Claire and other people, as though she wanted to keep the little blonde all to herself. Remembering their first conversation about the cheerleading 'culture', Claire thought maybe joining the team would be the best way to gain some personal space.

It turned out that despite her initial misgivings, university cheerleading wasn't nearly as bad as cheering in high school. Occasionally, Claire actually found herself enjoying the long practices, content in the familiar routine exercises. She often left long after everyone else, awash in the hope that her life at college could maybe be deemed 'normal'.

Tonight was no different. She ran laps after practice, still in her cheerleading outfit, until she was exhausted. She walked into the darkened locker room and flipped the nearest light switch. Moving to her locker, she stripped out of her uniform, balling it up to go in the morning laundry. Claire stood naked in the empty room, grabbing her towel and heading to the shower, where she spent almost twenty minutes under the hot water. She wrapped the towel around herself and pulled her clothes from the locker, only to find that she wasn't alone.

"Hi, Claire," he said with an easy smile. She froze at the sight of Sylar _here_, in Arlington. In the women's locker room, no less. "You're looking well."

She swallowed hard, trying to think of a way out without taking her eyes from him. "Sylar."

"What's the matter?" he asked cordially. "You weren't expecting me?"

"You already have what you wanted from me," she said, her throat dry. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd stop by, say hello. We haven't seen each other in a while." His voice was surreally casual, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a serial killer to revisit his would-be victim just as she exited the shower. "I came to see how you're doing."

"I _was_ doing great." Claire's voice didn't shake at all, but her stomach had dropped down somewhere near her weakening knees. He moved toward her and she stepped back involuntarily. "My roommate knows I'm here. She'll worry if I'm not back soon."

He chuckled then and took another step in her direction. "Gretchen's already asleep," he told her, watching with amusement as her eyes widened, "I wouldn't worry about her."

"Go away," she demanded, and a wave of force slammed her into the locker next to her. She cried out as the lock's dial dug into her back and the towel dropped to the floor below her.

"Cheerleading suits you," he murmured as his eyes traveled her taut body without shame. His hand reached out, as if to stroke the expanse of flesh, and she hissed.

"Get the hell away from me, you bastard."

His hand did touch her then, fingers tracing gently against her damp skin, moving up so his thumb could stroke her lower lip. The other hand rose to run from the side of her breast all the way down to her hip. Claire felt equal parts fear and anticipation as his fingers tickled along her skin. "Are you lowering your defenses, Claire?" he asked with a smirk.

She regained her senses long enough to spit at him, "Coward."

His interested gaze cooled. "I'm not a coward."

"It's not enough that you want to rape the lone woman in the locker room at night, is it? No, you're too afraid, so you hold her against the wall with your ability so she can't even try to struggle." She expected irritation, hurt pride, even fury, but instead his head inclined and he started kissing the hollow of her throat.

"That's hardly cowardice," he murmured against her soft neck. "I just get off on power." He nipped sharply at her collarbone and she gasped. He continued kissing her as his fingers traveled lower and lower. Against her will, Claire could feel her blood rushing to that spot between her thighs, and she squeezed her eyes shut and willed it to stop.

"You get off on power, too, Claire," came the words from the bowed head at her breasts. He looked up at her between kisses as he spoke. "Just the other end of it. That's why you don't like your roommate. She's too needy, too dependent. You need someone else to be in control." His fingers slipped inside her as he raised his head to claim her mouth with his. She made a strangled noise as his tongue pushed its way past her lips and his fingers moved inside her.

"Get off of me," she growled at him as he pulled back. He held up his fingers, grinning.

"I would, if I didn't think you liked this," he said. He grabbed her face and she felt her own stickiness on her cheek. "And you do like it, don't you, Claire." It was not a question. "You like it when you don't have to be in charge." He pressed himself bodily to her, and she could feel that regardless of her feelings now, he was enjoying this immensely.

She was breathless then, with her own scent assaulting her and his hard-on grinding against her pulsing heat. "No," she protested weakly. Sylar kissed her again as his left hand undid his jeans, pushing them down over his erection and pulling himself free of his boxers.

"Yes," he replied firmly, and thrust into her just as he released her from his power. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips to keep her from falling, and her small hands grabbed at his shoulders to brace herself. Each thrust dug the lock behind her deeper into her back, and her mouth fell open in silent discomfort. He took advantage of that, sliding his tongue along hers as he pushed even deeper into her.

The hand that wasn't supporting her was grasping, pulling at her breasts until it brushed its way down her stomach. His knuckles rested on her lower belly as the thumb found her clit and began to rub. She cried out as she tightened around him, her muscles surrendering to involuntary spasms around him. He gritted his teeth as he pushed against her once more before exploding, gasping as he rested his forehead on her shoulder.

Claire panted as her heart rate began to slow, and then realized her hands were digging into the thin cotton of his shirt before forcing herself to release it. His ragged breathing was in her ear as he lowered her to the floor, standing straight to refasten his pants.

"Was I wrong, Claire?" he asked arrogantly. She could only stare up at him, unwilling to admit that he was not.

**_Thank you for reading. Please remember to review. _**

**_--Chuck_**


End file.
